Part 8 (1/2)
She was old--of that there was no doubt, at least so it seemed at the first glance. Her hair was perfectly white, her face was very pale. But her eyes were the most wonderful thing about her. Maia could not tell what colour they were. They seemed to change with every word she said, with every new look that came over her face. Old as she was they were very bright and beautiful, very soft and sweet too, though not the sort of eyes--Maia said afterwards to Rollo--'that I would like to look at me if I had been naughty.' G.o.dmother was not tall; when she first came into the little kitchen she seemed to stoop a little, and did not look much bigger than Silva. And she was all covered over with a dark green cloak, almost the colour of the darkest of the foliage of the fir-trees.
'One would hardly see her if she were walking about the woods,' thought Maia, 'except that her face and hair are so white, they would gleam out like snow.'
CHAPTER V.
THE STORY OF A KING'S DAUGHTER.
'Gentle and sweet is she; As the heart of a rose is her heart, As soft and as fair and as sweet.'
_Liliput Lectures._
G.o.dmother turned to the little strangers. The two pairs of blue eyes were still fixed upon her. _Her_ eyes looked very kind and gentle, and yet very 'seeing', as she caught their gaze.
'I believe,' thought Maia, 'that she can tell all we are thinking;' and Rollo had something of the same idea, yet neither of them felt the least afraid of her.
'Rollo and Maia, dear children, too,' she said, 'we are so pleased to see you.'
'And we are very pleased to be here,' said they; 'but----' and then they hesitated.
'You are puzzled how it is I know your names, and all about you, are you not?' she said, smiling. 'I puzzle most children at first; but isn't it rather nice to be puzzled?'
This was a new idea. Thinking it over, they began to find there was something in it.
'I think it _is_,' both replied, smiling a little.
'If you knew all about everything, and could see through everything, there wouldn't be much interest left. Nothing to find out or to fancy.
Oh, what a dull world!'
'Are we to find out or to fancy _you_?' asked Maia. She spoke seriously, but there was a little look of fun in her eyes which was at once reflected in G.o.dmother's.
'Whichever you like,' she replied; 'but, first of all, you are to kiss me.'
Rollo and Maia both kissed the soft white face. It was _so_ soft, and there seemed a sort of fresh, sweet scent about G.o.dmother, as if she had been in a room all filled with violets, only it was even nicer. She smiled, and from a little basket on her arm, which they had not noticed, she drew out several tiny bunches of spring flowers, tied with green and white ribbon--so pretty; oh, so very pretty!
'So you scented my flowers,' she said. 'No wonder; you have never scented any quite like them before. They come from the other country.
Here, dears, catch,' and she tossed them up in the air, all four children jumping and darting about to see who would get most. But at the end, when they counted their treasures, it was quite right, each had got three.
'Oh, how sweet!' cried Maia. 'May we take them home with us, G.o.dmother?'
It seemed to come quite naturally to call her that, and Maia did it without thinking.
'Certainly,' G.o.dmother replied; 'but remember this, don't throw them away when they seem withered. They will not be really withered; that is to say, long afterwards, by putting them in the suns.h.i.+ne, they will--some of them, any way--come out quite fresh again. And even when dried up they will have a delicious scent; indeed, the scent has an added charm about it the older they are--so many think, and I agree with them.'
Rollo and Maia looked at their flowers with a sort of awe.
'Then they are _fairy_ flowers?' they half whispered. 'You said they came from the other country. Do you come from there too, G.o.dmother? Are you a fairy?'